


Across The Stars

by zora (nico_neo)



Series: Duel Of The Fates [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Introspection, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27541366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nico_neo/pseuds/zora
Summary: When Osamu gets out of the hatch, he hastily answers, waves and smiles to the greetings he receives from both aliens and humans comrades, but his mind isn’t really there with them. He hears a few questions such as “where is Atsumu?” “why isn’t Atsumu with you? Did something happen?”, but he doesn’t answer them, his gaze is fixed on the one person that could probably give him the most information about what happened. He’s glad the little crowd of pilots doesn’t follow him as he reaches Motoya, who’s busy cleaning a spherical astromech droid. Komori lifts his head up when he hears footsteps.“What happened to Rin?”After abruptly loosing communication with Suna, Osamu embarks on his own journey of self discovery and hope.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: Duel Of The Fates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004514
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41
Collections: SunaOsa





	Across The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Here is part 2! \o/
> 
> This time we take off on Osamu's journey, which... I definitely planned more than I planned the sakuatsu one lmao. There's more characters too so I think it allowed me to explore more things as well. I really enjoyed writing Kita in this one. Special thanks to Momo, who even if she doesn't necessarily ship it, listened to me ranting and let me annoy her about this fic as I writing it <3
> 
> Just like for part 1, if you want to get into the mood while reading I made a playlist with all the songs I bascially listened to while writing but that I think might fit: [check it out](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3NyaG2hA27FUFyf9UHW4bq?si=8wgYC93VQlqyl3Io7WB-dQ)  
> Additonal warnings:  
> mentions of guns (blasters)  
> blaster shots  
> non graphic character death
> 
> That said, enjoy!

How many days have they been staying here? Ten? A bit more. It’s been a week for sure, but really, Osamu doesn’t know how many days it has been exactly. Maybe it’s more than ten, can’t be less, but can be more. He doesn’t know, he loses track of time whenever he’s stuck in cables and reparations. It’s not voluntary. And it’s not like Atsumu is a big help either, he almost torched his hair last time, that idiot. Trust Atsumu to be an actual genius when it comes to piloting through an asteroid field, but apparently not for a simple task as connecting cables. What a shame.

Their communication channel has been damaged during their flee and fight before they graciously crashed in the middle of the desert on Tatooine. Osamu has put his priority on fixing this first. Communication with the Resistance was always the priority. He repaired it fairly quickly and even though it would need another check up once they’ll be back on D’Qar, to the headquarters, that’ll do for now. Even though… repairing the communication channel meant justifying why they were currently stuck on Tatooine… and how they ended up stuck here in the first place. Osamu’s pretty sure both Kita and Princess Leïa will have his and Atsumu’s ass when they’ll be back. At least Suna was covering for them, for now. 

Speaking of Suna, he became Osamu’s - and Atsumu’s, by extension - official reporter on the latest news concerning the conflict between the Resistance and the First Order. And how many days the twins still have until their imminent grounding once their general and Kita would find out what they’ve been doing all this time. Stuck on Tatooine for a bunch of weapons, the greed of the Miya Twins in a single scenario. 

Osamu is working on fixing the _Falcon_ ’s shields, all the while communicating with Rintarou. The latter was on a mission, Osamu doesn’t even get why he was communicating with him in the first place, but he won’t complain. He doesn’t mind the company and he’s sure Rintarou doesn’t either. 

“What’s yer mission even about?” Osamu asks, carefully looking at the bright blue cables above him to find the cause of the malfunction.

“I need to fetch some infos,” Rintarou’s bored voice answers. “Some maps, or something like that, they didn’t tell me much.”

“And you still went even though ya have no idea what yer actually doin’?” Osamu has to pause in his task, to shake his head. 

“Didn’t really have a choice, when you’re not here, I’m their best pilot,” Rintarou explains, voice filled with amusement as he jabs at him, playfully. “If you two where there instead of being stuck in the desert, we could have gone together.”

Osamu hears a series of beeps, coming from Suna’s side of the communication, he snorts. 

“Did yer droid just reveal to me that you’re also stuck on a desert planet, right now?” Osamu teases.

“Not stuck, on hold,” Rintarou counters. “I’m waiting for my informer to come back.” he explains.

They’re both silent for a while. Osamu finishes fixing the blue cables when Rintarou speaks again, quieter, but more alarmed.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he whispers. Osamu hears him speaking again, more distant this time, asking his droid to go back to the ship and get ready to take off. Then, more distinct again. “Shit.”

“Rin?” Osamu calls, sitting back up. He hears a first blaster shot. And another, and another. “Rin?” he calls again, straightening up. Loud statics coming from Rintarou’s side, he lost the communication. “Shit!” he grunts.

He has a bad feeling about this. A gut feeling, telling him something is wrong, other than what he heard. Working on muscle memory, or instinct, Osamu doesn’t know, he’s making his way to the cockpit, in the control room, tapping and pushing furiously on buttons, until an hologram of the current state of the ship appears in front of him.

The shields aren’t completely fixed, he’s still missing a few pieces… The cannons seem okay, the propellers… he winces but it’s powerful enough until he reaches D’Qar, as long as he can hyperdrive. Damn Atsumu and his freaky maneuvers. 

His gut feeling is getting stronger. Something happened, he’s sure of it.

But what to do…

“‘Tsumu!” he shouts, leaving the cockpit to run outside.

“It’s probably just the communication channel being defective, don’t get all worked up,” Atsumu says. How can the guy be so chill?! Osamu is this close to punching him. “It’s probably nothin’.”

“It’s not!” Osamu roars back, and he surprises both himself and Atsumu. “I feel it,” he says, more gently. “I can’t explain, I just feel it, somethin’ happened out there. I need to find what.”

“And I tell ya it’s nothin’,” Atsumu says, on the defensive, face holding his anger at bay. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Yer the idiot,” Osamu snarls. “I swear I won’t hesitate to leave ya here and go check by myself and prove ya wrong.”

“Yer fuckin’ insane,” Atsumu growls back, baring his teeth. “We still need to repair the ship, anyway, ya won’t go far. I tell ya it’s nothin’!”

Osamu shoves him off and walks back to the Falcon. “Fuck you!”

A few hours later, Osamu finds Atsumu again and hands him a radiophone. Atsumu just stares at him curiously, maybe with a slight hint of betrayal in his eyes too, but Osamu won’t back down. He needs to go. They stare at each other, in a silent communication. Atsumu seems to understand, eventually. He always does. He grabs the radiophone.

“If…” Osamu starts. “ _When_ I’ll find him, I’ll let you know.” _I’ll come back for you_ , is what he doesn’t say.

“Yer not takin’ the occasion to let me rot here? How thoughtful of ya,” Atsumu teases, locking eyes with him again. “How do ya know yer goin’ to find him?” he asks.

Osamu shrugs, but for the first time today, there’s a smile at the edge of his lips. “A feeling.” he says.

As the three moons of Tatooine rise up in the sky, Osamu takes off with the _Millennium Falcon_ , leaving his brother behind with a promise of coming back soon, and his journey ahead. 

Reaching the headquarters on D’Qar while taking off from Tatooine didn’t take really long. Both planets are in the Outer Rim Territories, Osamu just had to enter lightspeed once he was out of Tatooine’s atmosphere, and, a few minutes later, he entered D’Qar’s orbit. It’s definitely a different view from Tatooine. Tatooine is gold and red, filled with sand. D’Qar is a verdant planet, surrounded by a wide planetary ring Osamu doesn’t have a hard time navigating through to enter the planet’s atmosphere.

The familiarity of the planet and the headquarters come to life in front of Osamu’s eyes as he slowly pilots the Millennium Falcon to land in a free spot among the dozens of other spaceships that are already here. His gut feeling is confirmed when he doesn’t spot Rintarou’s modified black _X-Wing_ among them. Osamu brushes his worry away and lands the Falcon smoothly in a designated spot, he already sees several other pilots and Resistance fighters running toward him, ready to ask him endless questions, and probably awaiting for his and Atsumu’s return. It’s been weeks, after all. 

When Osamu gets out of the hatch, he hastily answers, waves and smiles to the greetings he receives from both aliens and humans comrades, but his mind isn’t really there with them. He hears a few questions such as “where is Atsumu?” “why isn’t Atsumu with you? Did something happen?”, but he doesn’t answer them, his gaze is fixed on the one person that could probably give him the most information about what happened. He’s glad the little crowd of pilots doesn’t follow him as he reaches Motoya, who’s busy cleaning a spherical astromech droid. Komori lifts his head up when he hears footsteps.

“Oh, hey Osamu,” he says, eyebrows up and the surprise is clear on his face. “Did you and Atsumu manage to repair the _Falcon_?”

Osamu crouches at Komori’s level, conflicted. “No, well, I repaired what I could but…” he bites his lips and runs his hand on his face. “Atsumu is still there, it’s only me.”

Motoya looks at him confused, Osamu decides to go straight to the point. 

“What happened to Rin?” 

Motoya has taken him inside, in a corner of the cafetaria. The double B unit droid has followed them, quietly beeping next to them as Motoya sits down in front of him, two cups of warm beverage on the table. He slides one to Osamu, who takes it gracefully and doesn’t wait to sip on it. The beverage appeases the knot in his throat. From lack of hydration or worry, he doesn’t know because of what. 

Komori and Suna are part of the same team. Same squadron, if you prefer. They’re basically always fighting together and if one needs a hand, the other will help without question. A bit like Osamu and Atsumu. Except that Rintarou and Motoya aren’t related. But, being at war, it creates bonds. They’re all a family, in the end. And maybe Osamu is a bit selfish for thinking he’s the only one worried for Rintarou in their whole rebellion group.

 _But they don’t feel the way I do for him_ , he convinces himself.

Motoya cups his hands around his mug and looks at him. “General Organa sent him to Arvala-7,” he explains. “An informer apparently had a map that could help us take down several attack plans of the First Order.”

“Do we know who the informer is?” Osamu asks, warily.

“We don’t,” Motoya denies. “That’s why Rintarou volunteered to go alone, he is the best out of us all, always had a sharp sense of his surroundings, he identified quickly and efficiently that it was a trap.”

“He told me he felt like somethin’ was wrong,” Osamu mutters, quietly, the scene replaying in his head like a movie. “Then I heard blaster shots… And then nothin’.”

“The First Order got him.”

Osamu lifts back up wide eyes, Motoya has his lips pinched in a frown. Osamu is about to retort when the other pilot mentions the droid with his head.

“It’s his droid, it came back with the map.”

Osamu can only stare at him, puzzled. “I thought it was a trap.”

“It was,” Motoya agrees. “The informer was a double agent. He gave the map to Rin, but the First Order was already here to snatch it from us. By getting Rin, they get the map, but mostly, they get information about us, and our base,” he explains. He pats the droid. “But we also have the map. This little guy managed to get away.”

 _That’s why Rin told the droid to go back to the ship and be ready to leave._ Osamu wants to shake his head.

“Pullin’ the heroic move, that dumbass,” he mutters in a breath. “What a fuckin’ idiot.”

He hears Motoya chuckle, in front of him. Osamu ticks on something.

“I didn’t see Rin’s _X-Wing_ , though.” he points out.

Motoya’s small smile turns into a grimace. “They fired the _X-Wing_ ,” he looks at the double B unit droid again and pats the metallic head. “But I think this safety capsule you guys added to the _X-Wing_ a few months back actually proved its utility.”

Osamu finds himself smiling. “Who said we only have bad ideas?” he jokes. Motoya utters a light laugh. Osamu lets himself get lost in the remainder of his beverage, watching his reflection on the surface. Eventually, he asks, quietly: “Are there any plans to get him back?”

Motoya doesn’t answer. Osamu pinches his lips, his hand tightening around his mug. Silence speaks for itself. 

“You should sleep,” Motoya whispers, after a minute. “We’ll surely have a meeting about what happened, tomorrow. I’m sure the others will be happy to see you too.” with that, he gets up, taps Osamu’s shoulder and leaves the room without another word.

The spherical droid stays, however, and Osamu glances at it when it starts beeping. He huffs a small laugh.

“Ya’ve been very courageous too.” he answers the droid.

“If yer not goin’ to send anyone, then I’m goin’,” he speaks up, interrupting the cacophony around him. 

Several, if not all, stares fall on him. Osamu is hidden by other pilots, some taller than him, so he gesticulates in between them to stand in the open, to everyone’s view. Everybody is looking, the pilots, the technicians, their General. He catches Shinsuke’s stare, in between them all. 

The tension has risen the more the meeting went on. Nobody really wanted to risk their lives trying to infiltrate a First Order’s spaceship, but nobody wanted to leave a comrade for dead either. Because everyone is scared, or because they don’t know how to go about this kind of mission, Osamu doesn’t know. But he’s not going to stay here and watch, and lose more time. Who knows what’s going on while they’re talking.

“If nobody volunteers to go, then I will,” he repeats, averting his eyes from Kita’s golden gaze to meet the General’s. 

“Where were you even when it happened, huh?” someone asks, somewhere behind him.

Osamu grits his teeth but doesn’t answer. He hears several murmurs of approbation, all around him. Some even ask where his brother is.

“I don’t think it matters,” Shinsuke’s voice cut through the raising volume. “What matters is that he’s here now, and probably takin’ responsibility on a mission we all should be participatin’ in.”

Osamu looks at Kita again, a bit surprised. He was sure his friend would have been one, if not the first, to ask him where he has been, rather than agreeing. But, it’s Shinsuke, he always surprises him, in good ways. Osamu locks eyes with General Organa again, she’s already looking at him patiently. A small smile on her face, a sign she’s not even surprised Osamu jumped head first and didn’t think about other outcomes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks him, over the return of a cacophony of disagreement behind them. 

“With all respect I have for ya, General, whether ya would have accepted or not, I would have gone,” Osamu says, bluntly, a bit sorry. “I left my twin in the middle of the desert, for that.” he adds, light heartedly. 

She rolls her eyes, and Osamu can only smile cheekily. “I won’t ask about that,” her face becomes serious again. “We’ll be on stand-by, if anything goes wrong, alert us and come back immediately.”

Osamu scrunches his nose. “Again, with all respect, I’m a bit more of a… jump into a spaceship and go for it.” he says cheekily. 

He’s stopped by Kita when he’s about to enter the Millennium Falcon. The other is ready to take off as well, clothed in his red pilot suit. He’s holding his helmet under one of his arms and his gold eyes are looking right through Osamu. It makes him shiver a bit, he didn’t miss the Kita stare.

“I won’t ask,” Shinsuke says. “But I definitely want some explanations on yers and Atsumu’s sudden disappearance weeks ago.”

Osamu winces slightly. “Can it wait until Atsumu comes back too?” he bargains. Shinsuke doesn’t falter. “... Alright.” he groans.

“Good luck.” Kita says when he turns around to go back to his own spaceship.

Maybe Osamu will leave out the “technically we stole weapons” part of the story. 

“Damn, that’s fuckin’ huge,” Osamu mutters, upon spotting the Star Destroyer in front of him. “Lucky bitches.” he adds, already typing on several buttons on his control board, and pulling levers above him.

His earpiece rings, and Kita’s voice reaches him. “How is it goin’?”

“No yikes for now, I’m approachin’ their Destroyer,” Osamu answers. He pushes on the speed shift, the Falcon gaining a slight speed. The First Order’s ship was closer than ever.

“What’s yer plan to enter?” Kita inquires. 

Osamu stops for a second. Oh, yeah. The plan. Well…

“Well, two options,” he tells his friend. “I make myself invisible until I enter their ship…” he makes a pause, pursuing his lips. “Or, I play the traitor card.”

“You didn’t think ‘bout a plan?!” comes Aran’s voice, filled with disbelief. 

“I didn’t think that far, alright?” Osamu grunts. “But look, I have two plans now!” 

“I can’t believe ya.” Aran sighs.

“Won’t they see ya, either way?” Shinsuke cuts in.

“When ya have a twin like Atsumu,” Osamu says, smiling. “it’s easy to make yerself not be seen.”

He pushes a metallic piece he grabbed from a clutch bag hanging behind him into a slit on the control board. It will blur the _Falcon_ from the Star Destroyer’s radar. “And now you can’t see me enterin’.” he chants softly as he successfully enters the Star Destroyer’s hangar. Osamu activates his earpiece again. “I’m in.”

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid.” Aran warns him.

Osamu chuckles as the _Millennium Falcon_ comes to a stop, landing inside the hangar. He spots two Stormtroopers already making their way to him. That part is going to be less fun. Osamu stands up from the pilot seat, grabs his blaster and walks toward the hatch of the _Falcon_ , remaining hidden for the time being. The footsteps are getting closer and he seriously hopes they didn’t ask for backup yet. 

The moment the first Stormtrooper enters, Osamu grabs him by the collar, keeping him in a headlock as he shoots on the second one before he can shoot him or give the alert. When the body falls to the floor, Osamu kicks the first trooper’s blaster further away in the _Falcon’s_ corridor and points his own against his head.

“I’ll need ya to give me some directions.” he says, as a starter. 

When the Stormtrooper he interrogated is perfectly tied up with no means of contacting his peers for backup, and that he’s dressed with the other one’s suit, Osamu gets out of the _Falcon_. He exchanged his ear piece for a bracelet communication channel instead, it’ll be easier to communicate, because of the helmet.

“Hey, I think I get why Stormtroopers are so shit at aiming correctly,” he says to whoever is listening to him right now. “I can’t see anythin’ with this helmet, kriff.”

“Osamu, shut up.” Aran says. 

Not taking offense in his friend’s words, Osamu makes his way out of the hangar and into the spaceship’s multitude of corridors and hallways. _They’re keeping him in one of the interrogation rooms, second floor, at the very end turn right, it’s an open room, dead end._ When he spots a group of soldiers entering one of the elevators, he joins them in. There are four of them with him in an enclosed space. Osamu tries to act as natural as possible. He can do that. A perfect blend in, raising no suspicions. 

“Man, the Resistance guy, the prisoner they’re keeping locked,” one of the Stormtroopers says, to his peer next to him, on the left. “I don’t know how he hasn’t spit it out yet, I wouldn’t like to be at his place.”

Osamu doesn’t speak, simply listens in silence. They’re talking about Rintarou. His grip tightens on his blaster. 

“I was on guard there earlier,” the other one says. “If he wants to stay alive, he should spill. It’ll kill him eventually.”

Osamu feels his nostrils flaring up when the first trooper outdo the other, snickering. He grits his teeth and makes himself remember to breathe correctly, one more floor to go, he can’t fuck everything up now. 

When the elevator dings to the second floor, he goes out, walking ahead. _Turn right at the very end_. Good luck or suspicion, there aren't a lot of people. The more he walks, the emptier the corridor gets. Well, his luck. He takes a deep breath before turning right when he reaches the end of the alley.

Rintarou is there, locked on a standing seat with restraints on his feet and wrists. He has several cuts on his face and he seems ready to collapse as his gaze falls on Osamu. The pilot has to prevent himself from getting rid of his helmet right away and looks at the Stormtrooper guarding the cell instead. Osamu notices he has turned defensive.

“What are you doing here?” the trooper asks.

“Shift change.” Osamu tries.

The Stormtrooper cocks his head, clearly confused. “I wasn’t aware of that.” he says.

Osamu senses it before it happens. A gut feeling. And as the guard is about to lift his wrist to his face - to call backup - Osamu has already shot. He slightly winces at the sound of the blaster echoing in the room. He hurries to Rintarou’s side.

“They shoot each other now,” the prisoner slurs. “And they can aim.”

“Maybe because it’s one of the best shooters who pulled on the trigger.” Osamu says, releasing his friend from his restraints. 

Rintarou doesn’t move, and simply looks at him. Confused and wary. 

Osamu takes off the helmet. “Come on, ya didn’t recognize me?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Suna only says. What a welcome. It makes Osamu roll his eyes.

“I’m savin’ ya, dumbass,” he points out to Rintarou. “I got him.” he says through his intercom.

“The others are here too?” 

“Stand-by, ready to attack if somethin’ goes wrong.”

“What the hell Osamu?” Rintarou huffs.

Osamu licks his lips, looking down. He raises his eyes to meet Rintarou’s. “I had a feelin’ somethin’ happened to ya,” he shrugs. “I couldn’t do nothin’. Now, can we please have this conversation another time, we need to get out.”

He helps Suna get out of the standing seat and hands him the cuffs in one of the pockets of his suit, with a smug smile. Rintarou looks back at him, deadpanned. 

“Uncuffing me to cuff me again?”

“Stop askin’ and put them on, hurry!” Osamu puts the helmet back on. “Can ya walk?”

“That should be fine.” Rintarou nods when he finishes putting the cuffs on his wrists.

“We’re makin’ our way out.” Osamu informs, into the communication channel.

Apparently, nobody questions why a single Stormtrooper is bringing a prisoner to the hangar. Well, not that it really matters anyway, it gives them more time, that way. Osamu just hopes they haven’t found the body yet. Or the fastened Stormtrooper in his spaceship. 

Or maybe they have because the minute they step out closer to the Falcon, there’s a horde of blasters pointed at them.

“I hope you have a plan for this.” Rintarou comments.

“No,” Osamu hands him the spare blaster he had stolen from the Stormtrooper from earlier. “Just use this and run.”

In a battle of blasters and perfect aim, Rintarou reaches the open hatch of the Millennium Falcon faster.

“Go inside, get ready to leave!” Osamu screams. “I’ll get rid of them!”

Rintarou nods and disappears inside as Osamu stays back, pulling perfect shot after perfect shot. He hears sounds coming from his left and see another batch of troopers coming at them. But, behind him, he also hears the roaring of the _Falcon’s_ motors and propulsors, and allows himself to smile as he jumps on the hatch, hauling himself up when the Falcon starts to lift up. He drops the blasters on the ground and closes the hatch manually after pushing the two Stormtroopers he encountered earlier off.

“Say hi to yer friends for me!”

He gets rid of the helmet and runs into the _Falcon’s_ corridors and goes down to the ventral quad laser cannon, sliding down the small ladder and falling on the seat underneath. He puts the mic on and programs the cannon.

“Rin,” he says once the communication channel is open. “Get us out of here.” he smiles.

“You’re on.”

Osamu fires into the crowd as Rintarou takes off, leaving the Star Destroyer as quickly as possible. Movements on the corner of his eyes make Osamu stop shooting.

“I think we have company,” he comments when he notices a group of _TIE Fighters_ coming after them.

“Good or bad?” Rintarou asks. 

Osamu feels the _Falcon_ making a loop to avoid the incessant firing, he misses the shot and curses under his breath.

“Good company.” Aran’s voice cut them off.

Osamu’s smile widens on his face as he sees the enemies' spaceships blowing in front of him and two _X-Wings_ flying above them, soon followed by others.

“Osamu, yer aim was a bit off,” Shinsuke comments, as he takes down newcoming _TIE Fighters._

“That’s ‘cause Rin maneuvered like crazy,” he mumbles in defense.

“Are you criticizing my piloting, Osamu?” Rintarou cuts in. “What did you even do to this poor spaceship, it’s blaring red everywhere.”

“Can we talk about this later?” Osamu grumbles as he realizes a particular hard loop to hit his target.

He hears Rintarou’s small chuckle before the pilot hyperdrives them into lightspeed to go back to D’Qar before the First Order could follow them

Osamu leaves the cannon pod a few seconds later, climbing the ladder back up to the _Falcon’s_ main hallway to walk to the cockpit. Rintarou is there, and he probably has moved from the pilot seat to the co-pilot’s after reaching lightspeed. Osamu quietly sits in the free spot and observes him. Rintarou is rubbing at his temples with one hand, the dried blood stuck to his skin, his other hand is curled around himself, across his stomach, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the upper side of his chest with a frown, like he was in pain. Osamu can feel his heart crack in his ribcage. He feels like he was seeing a Rintarou from a few years ago, slouched on himself, looking tinier than he was, hiding himself from the world so nobody would know. 

Eventually, Rintarou lifts tired eyes to look at Osamu and smiles wobbly. 

Basked in silence with the only sounds of the universe around them, Osamu reaches for the hand Rintarou has dropped on the control board. Holding. Squeezing. Suna’s hand is cold, thinner than Osamu’s. Calloused from piloting yet softer than his from numerous cuts and burns because of playing with cables and endless reparations. 

“Thank you,” Rintarou whispers, making Osamu shift his gaze from their hands to his eyes again. 

“Why are ya thankin’ me?” Osamu huffs, quiet. 

“Because I think that if you had come later I would have spit it all out,” Rintarou confesses. 

Osamu gulps, taking in the haunted look in his friend’s eyes as he asks: “What happened there, Rin?”

Suna’s lips twitch, and he tightens his free arm around himself. His green eyes fixed on Osamu’s silvery orbs. Osamu squeezes his fingers in his when he feels them starting to shake.

“They went into my head,” Rintarou explains. “Tried to see what I saw of the map before the spy gave it to me,” he shrugs. “I was ready to just spill everything. They… didn’t only see that, though, I think. It just… it hurt, it felt… invasive and you can’t do anything about it because your body is stuck, but somehow, your mind is too.” he exhales. “So, thank you,” Rintarou smiles, more genuine, less shaky. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Osamu smiles, softly, fondly, at him. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

Rintarou’s smile doesn’t falter as he slowly slumps against the seat and his eyes fall close, asleep. His hand is still in Osamu’s. 

When they land on D’Qar, medics immediately wrap Rintarou in a warm blanket and lead him inside for a check up, and so he could rest, Osamu guesses. Several pilots and members of the Resistance who stayed at the base congratulate him and the others, but Osamu’s eyes never leave Rintarou’s frame. A part of him is still wary and anxious, but another part, bigger, is filled with peace, achievement. It floods his body and untenses his muscles. A force. It washes over him like the soft rain in the mornings, like the warm lights of the sunset caressing his face. 

Aran gives him a huge slap on the back that almost makes him fall forward. But his friend is smiling at him.

“Ya did great out ‘here,” he tells him. “Congrats.” and with that, he walks away.

Another tap on the same spot, less abrupt, softer, but the hand on his back is grounding, full of courage and wisdom. Osamu turns his head to look at Kita, on his left.

“I agree, ya did great,” Shinsuke says. He lets his hand drop from Osamu’s back. “I’m proud of ya.”

Within peace, there’s warmth, and it’s what Osamu feels as he watches his friend walk away to join Aran. 

When Osamu looks up at the sky, he thinks of sand plains and twin suns. He thinks of heat and golden hair contrasting to his darker one. He thinks of Atsumu and he feels the same peace he’s feeling right now. 

Night has fallen, most of the people are already sleeping, the headquarters only being illuminated by the few torch lights here and there. Osamu isn’t sleeping, he probably couldn’t even if he wanted to. So, instead, he's sitting in the cafeteria, sipping on a warm beverage, the closest thing he got that looked like tea, and absentmindedly looking at the spaceships parked outside, illuminated by the moonlights of the twin moons. Funny how D’Qar has twin moons and Tatooine has twin suns. Osamu’s thoughts are settled on a certain brown haired pilot, lying in an infirmary bed and catching the rest he deserves. Part of Osamu’s thoughts are relieved, the other part can’t help but worry.

“Can’t sleep?”

Osamu finally blinks back to the present and he averts his gaze from where it was lost on an orange light on one of the spaceships. Shinsuke sits down next to him on the bench, a similar warm cup of beverage in his hands. Osamu’s has turned cold, probably.

“Not really,” Osamu answers, when he realizes Kita is still waiting for a response. “‘m thinkin’ ‘bout… I have some things on my mind.”

“Do ya want to share?” Shinsuke politely asks, eying him gently. 

Osamu doesn’t give an answer immediately, playing with the cup in his hands instead. When he catches a glimpse of his own reflection looking at him, he speaks.

“I’m thinkin’ about Rin,” he confesses. “I’m worried.”

“What are ya worried ‘bout?”

“‘Bout what happened when he was with the First Order,” Osamu sips on his now cold drink. “He told me… He told me that if I got ‘here later than I initially did he would have spilled it all out. He said they went through his head.”

Kita doesn’t speak, doesn’t ask further. Osamu knows his friend _knows_ too. 

“Ya really care ‘bout him, don’t ya.” he eventually says, a soft smile adorning his face. It’s not a question, really, it’s a statement. One disguised as a question. 

Osamu can’t help the fond and genuine smile that blooms on his face. Nor the chuckle that escapes his lips when he takes a sip again. “Yeah,” he sighs, a bit dreamily. “I do.”

And Kita smiles, knowingly. “He cares a lot ‘bout ya too.”

Osamu feels his cheeks gaining a bit of warmth and disguises the whole ordeal with a cough.

“During war times,” Shinsuke continues. “It's important to have people ‘round ya that care ‘bout ya,” he says, looking at Osamu pointedly. It doesn’t hold any bite, a simple wisdom that defines Kita’s character and that has always fascinated Osamu. “It’s important to tell them, too. How you feel.” he finishes, with a smile. 

Osamu can only let the word sinks in, untying inside his head to reach a conclusion he doesn’t take really long to understand. Shinsuke’s caring stare is still over him.

“Ya think I should tell him?” the pilot asks, his fingers tapping against the metal of the mug. 

Kita smiles again but doesn’t answer. He takes a sip of his drink and they fall into silence. It’s comfortable. It’s always comfortable with Shinsuke. The type of silence you share with a close friend, with a brother, with family. Osamu wonders if Shinsuke had answers.

As if on cue, the other pilot puts his mug on the wood table, cupping his hands around it to keep a semblance of warmth. It’s starting to get a bit cold. 

“What’s on yer mind?” Kita asks, once again. “I feel that somethin’ is troubling ya.”

 _Maybe…_ Osamu feels his lips twitch into a side smile.

“It’s a bit weird, though,” he mumbles, but he knows his friend is waiting for him to explain either way. “When Rin got caught… I didn’t know he had gotten captured, I just…” Osamu frowns. “I felt it,” he turns his head to look at Kita, frown still in place. “I felt somethin’ happened to him, and I wasn’t even there but planets away.”

“What did ya feel exactly?” 

“I felt that he was in danger,” Osamu muses. “I had this… tingling feeling, it’s like my whole mind and body were ringin’ an alarm on workin’ on autopilot. The only thing I knew is that he was in danger and I needed to do somethin’. It was like… an intuition. A correct one,” he’s silent for a moment. “It was like it was whisperin’ to me.” he quietly adds.

Kita doesn’t answer, his gaze fixed on his drink. Osamu can’t read his face, but he’s pretty sure his friend is thinking. He bites his bottom lip.

“I know it’s probably stupid but—”

“— Have you ever heard about midi-chlorians?” Shinsuke cuts him off.

It makes Osamu frown. He scrunches his nose. “What’s that?”

“They are microscopic, intelligent life forms that originate from the foundation of life in the center of the galaxy,” the other explains. “They reside within the cells of all livin’ organisms, and form what we call a symbiotic relationship with their host,” Kita turns his head to look at him. “Now, have you ever heard about the Force?”

“Isn’t that a Jedi thing?” 

Shinsuke lets out a small laugh. “Not exclusively,” he says. “The Force is an energy field, biding all things together. All living things, the galaxy, the universe… Everythin’.”

“I don’t see where this is goin’...” Osamu interrupts, confused.

“The Force speaks through the midi-chlorians,” Kita reveals, still smiling. “If they are sensitive enough to its powers, certain beings are able to use it.”

“What does that mean, then?”

Shinsuke looks back ahead again, his face is holding all the wisdom Osamu thinks he”ll never be able to reach. He drinks every word Kita utters, because he knows it’s the truth. 

“It means that maybe, you are also sensitive to its powers,” Kita says. “Maybe that’s why you were able to sense the danger surrounding Rintarou.” 

“How do you know all of this?” is the only thing Osamu can ask. He’s sensitive to the Force? Is it what this tingling feeling, this intuition was, all along?

“My grandmother told me about all of this,” he looks at Osamu again, a soft smile back on his lips. “She said that she could feel when it was speakin’ to her. That she could also sense it when someone else was sensitive, whether it was strong or a simple frail,” he explains. A second of silence before he adds: “I can feel it in ya, too.”

Osamu’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re also sensitive?” 

“Let’s say… that I can feel it.” Shinsuke says, ever so wisely. When Osamu is looking back in his mug, surprise still clear on his face and with his mind running around, Kita speaks again: “You don’t have to look too much into it. Just considers it a gift and a blessing.” he taps Osamu on the shoulder as he stands up. 

When Kita is almost out of the cafeteria, Osamu turns on his chair to call him. The other pilots turns around to look at him curiously. 

“What about ‘Tsumu?” Osamu can’t help but ask.

“I think you can find the answer to that yourself, Osamu.” Shinsuke smiles again and disappears in the shadows, leaving Osamu with his thoughts and a cold drink. 

Osamu had gone to sleep a few, long minutes after Kita had left him alone. He had stayed lying awake a few more minutes before the adrenaline of the day eventually worned out to give place to exhaustion.

When he wakes up the next morning, the sun is already high in the sky. The whole headquarter is chattering carelessly, joyfully. It doesn’t feel like a sudden attack from the First Order is ghosting over their head. But, Osamu guesses they can enjoy the last hours, maybe days of peace before having to fight again, he’s pretty sure their General already has a plan under her sleeve.

Osamu gets up groggily from his makeshift bed in one of the far corners of the limestone cave they were all sleeping in (when they were on duty, at least, otherwise they slept in the _Tantive IV,_ General Organa’s command ship. Osamu just crashed there last night.) What they called the cafeteria was actually just a space in the opposite corner of the sleeping area. The infirmary was inside the _Tantive IV_ , from where Motoya seems to be coming back from, as he walks towards Osamu.

“Rise up, sunshine,” Komori teases with a smirk on his face.

“Shut up.” Osamu croaks, but there’s a smile on his face.

“I didn’t get to tell you yesterday, but,” Motoya’s smirk morphes into a smile. A sincere one. “Thank you.”

“Ya don’t have to thank me.”

“But I want to!” 

And with a beam rivalizing the sun, Motoya walks away. Osamu shakes his head and a puff of air escapes his lips.

One of the medics he caught on his way told him Rintarou is still sleeping, so Osamu turns around from his initial idea of going to the infirmary to head to the _Falcon_ instead. A little session of reparations won’t hurt. Atsumu would probably throw a fit, and Osamu would tell him it’s not on fire yet, so it’s not that bad. It’s Atsumu’s fault their spaceship is in this state, in the first place, anyway.

After finishing connecting the last gear, Osamu takes a step back and wipes the slight sweat from his forehead. He walks to the main hold and slumps down on the lounge area, next to the holographic game table. Osamu finds himself wondering when was the last time he played a game. Was it with Atsumu during a smuggling mission? With Rintarou when they were still at the base? Or was it a team game with the four of them? Maybe it was his solo game against Aran…

He thinks about Atsumu. How he can be doing, how he is. Osamu doesn’t really have to wonder for long, the same feeling, the same whisper, it’s telling him Atsumu is alright, experiencing his own journey. 

Osamu turns off the game he has apparently launched while lost in his thoughts and leaves the _Falcon_ , the sun is setting outside. He goes back inside the cave, heads to the river, with the only thought of washing the grease off him before heading to the infirmary later.

When Osamu pushes open the door to Suna’s room, the first rays of the moons are already shining in the night sky. He spots Rintarou’s frame illuminated by the moonlights glowing from the window of the spaceship. Suna is resting against his pillow on the bed and looking outside, but he turns his head towards Osamu when he hears the door opening.

Osamu quietly sits on the side of the bed when Rintarou makes space for him, due to the absence of chairs in the room. He hands a packet of biscuits he managed to grab at the dining area. 

“Did ya eat? Osamu asks when Suna takes the biscuits with a cheeky smile.

“I have,” Rintarou says. “But I’m definitely taking this.” he adds with a smirk, putting the biscuits away on the bedside table.

“And I’m the glutton.” Osamu mumbles and bites into one of his own snacks. It’s really dry, but it’s better than nothing. Reminds Osamu of the green bread they ate while on Tatooine and eating with Kiyoomi. 

Rintarou chuckles. His eyes never leave Osamu. Once he’s done with the biscuit, Osamu looks at him, puzzled. 

“Do I have crumbs everywhere?” he asks.

Rintarou chuckles again. “Well, actually yes,” he says and brings his thumb to the corner of Osamu’s lips. He wipes the crumbs off, softly. “But you looked troubled, like you have something on your mind.”

Osamu is glad it’s pretty dark and the only light they have is the shine of the moons, maybe Rintarou doesn’t see the blush creeping on his face. He clears his throat. Kita’s words come back to his mind.

_It’s important to tell them, too. How you feel._

And if Osamu listens to the voice whispering to him, maybe it’s the reason why - along with Kita’s words from last night - he allows himself to speak what’s on his mind.

“When I felt somethin’ was wrong with ya, that you were in danger,” he begins, his eyes are still locked on Rintarou’s. “And when that feelin’ revealed itself to be true when I came here, and then when I saw with my own two eyes what they did to ya, what ‘ppened to ya...” Osamu pauses, scratching at his chin with one of his hands and leaving Suna’s green eyes to look at the white blanket instead. “I don’t want to feel that way again. I don’t want to see ya like this again. I hated it, I hate what they did and how it made ya feel. I just…” he looks up at Rintarou again, and the way Suna’s eyes immediately softens the moment he does so gives him more courage than any whispering voice inside his mind could. “I like ya, Rin. I think I love ya, even.”

A smile blooms on Rintarou’s face, the softness never leaves his eyes, only making place for fondness as he tugs on Osamu’s shirt.

“I know, now kiss me, finally.” he simply says before Osamu complies and locks their lips together, tugging harder on the hem of Osamu’s shirt.

If Osamu felt a slight remaining of fear and anxiousness since they came back from the First Order’s Star Destroyer, now, as Rintarou’s lips move against his, he only feels peace, completion.

Rintarou pulls back, slightly, their lips are still brushing and Osamu only needs to tilt his head to capture and taste them again. He does it once, twice before Suna pulls back again with a chuckle.

“Let me talk, dummy,” he says in-between two kisses. Osamu grins and kisses him again until Suna flattens his palm against his chest to make him stay away. They lock eyes again, silver watching sand-green. “For the record, I love you too.”

This time, Osamu is the one with a smile blooming on his face. And it doesn’t falter as Rintarou pulls him closer again. 

Osamu doesn’t remember leaving the room to go back to his makeshift bed somewhere inside the _Tantive IV_. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep last night. He doesn’t remember leaning against Rintarou’s chest, his head resting on the other’s sternum, upper body against upper body, legs tangled. He doesn’t remember Rintarou’s hand sneaking into his hair to run his fingers in his dark silvery strand, scratching his skull as his cheek rested against Osamu’s head. 

He doesn’t remember any of that, but when he blinks his eyes open as he starts to wake up and feels Rintarou’s warm body underneath him, he certainly doesn’t mind it. Osamu sleepily places a kiss against the white linen tunic of the infirmary Suna is wearing, on his chest, where he knows two horizontal incisions are on each side, hidden by the fabric, and lifts his head to look at the other pilot’s face. Rintarou is still sleeping - hurt or not, it doesn’t really surprise Osamu, Suna has always been a heavy sleeper. His head has slid off since he doesn’t have Osamu’s to support it anymore. Now, it’s buried in the pillow. Osamu doesn’t dare to move, so he simply looks. The events from the night before slowly replayed in his memory, causing a smile to gradually bloom on his face like the first flowers of the sunny days on Alderaan, or Naboo. Osamu leans his head closer to Rintarou’s, quietly, gently not to startle him awake and lays a kiss on his lips. Light, short, nonetheless sweet. 

Suna’s hand that was playing with his hair has fallen onto his back a few seconds after Osamu had first moved, but now, Osamu can feel it cupping the back of his neck, pulling him closer for another kiss, longer this time. Even more sweet. Their noses are brushing now, eyelashes brushing the skin of their cheeks. Osamu’s thumb is running slow and steady circles against Rintarou’s side, grounding both of them. 

When they pull away, Suna is the first one to open his eyes as Osamu keeps his close, a fond smile glued to his lips.

“Hey,” Rintarou whispers. 

Osamu opens his eyes, half lidded. “Hey.”

They don’t speak more, they don’t need to. They simply smile at each other and cuddle closer, just enjoying being finally in each other’s arms after a long journey away. All cards laid on the table, feelings out in the open and reciprocated. Simply, finally being with each other like they are supposed to be. 

The only moment they have to untangle is when Osamu is ushered out by the medics so they could check on Rintarou. And if Kita smiles knowingly when Osamu passes by him on his way to wash up, then it’s only for Osamu’s small blush to know. 

Suna is discharged the next morning, and apparently, nobody can really enjoy it, because it’s the same moment the First Order decides to counter back. By attacking their base. General Organa calls up an hurried emergency meeting.

“They found where we are situated?!” 

“How is that even possible?!”

More than one pilot is angry, all led by their fear and desperation. Osamu knows this, they’re all in the same situation, they’re all basically facing a dead end. They have two choices: to fight, or to flee. Giving way to anger and tension between all of them isn’t the right thing to do. 

“It’s his fault!” a pilot says, pointing to Rintarou, who only looks at him, face expressionless. “It’s because of him we’re getting attacked.” he looks at Osamu, then. “It’s because of you too! You wreck havoc by going to rescue him and the next thing that happens is them attacking us! We’re not ready!”

“Are you unready,” Rintarou speaks, slow, unbothered, eyes threatening. “Or are you scared?” 

“Are you saying I’m scared? Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s what it looks like to me.” 

Osamu sees red when the pilot starts to walk towards Rintarou, fist raising in the air and ready to deliver the blow. Osamu can only see the man, fist up in the air, the surroundings are blurry. He doesn’t hear anything, his ears are buzzing, the voices of the others sound so far away. His teeth are gritted, jaw clenched. The only thing Osamu sees is the pilot. The buzzing turns into a sharp noise. The man has stopped moving, body frozen in place, only his eyes are moving, from left to right, in panic. Among the ring and the buzz, Osamu hears his name. There’s a hand against his back, and another one his threading his fingers with his. There’s Rintarou on one side. And on the other, the voice is calling his name again.

 _Osamu_ . _Let go_.

“Osamu,” Kita. He’s talking close to Osamu’s ear, it’s his hand he can feel against his back. “Osamu, let go.”

Osamu takes a breath and blinks. Suddenly, everything is clear again, the pilot falls to the floor, on his ass. Osamu can hear again, there’s no buzzing, no ringing anymore. Every sense is coming back to him. Kita’s hand on his back is grounding, just like Rintarou’s. He squeezes their intertwined hands and looks at the man next to him. Suna shares a cautious, worried look with him. Osamu can only swallow and squeezes his hand again. Then, he turns to look at Kita, on his right. Shinsuke hasn’t taken his palm away from the wide of his back, keeping it here, a warmth spreading through Osamu’s shirt. His friend is already looking at him, pointedly. Osamu needs to take a breather.

Kita seems to sense it because his other hand is coming up to Osamu’s chest, pulling him backward. Shinsuke and Rintarou share a look. Suna nods and squeezes Osamu’s hand one last time and lets go. Kita leads him away from the group meeting after glancing and nodding at their General.

Osamu doesn’t know how long they walked, but he knows they stopped in the dining area. Kita pulls him down, making him sit on one of the benches and disappears for a few seconds, coming back with a metal mug, and sits next to him. Osamu takes hold of the cup with a trembling hand - he hasn’t noticed - and sips. 

“What happened out there?” Shinsuke asks when he puts the mug down.

Osamu swallows both his drink and his saliva. “I don’t know I just…” he breathes. “I saw the punch comin’ and I just… I saw red,” Osamu declares. “Then, the next thing he’s frozen in place and I can’t hear anythin’ but buzzin’ in my ears and… Rin’s hand in mine… and yer voice callin’ me.

“You used the Force, Osamu,” Kita explains, getting straight to the point. “Ya freezed him in place thanks to the Force. How did that happen?” he asks again, with more force. There’s a slight edge to his words, like he’s ready to get angry anytime now.

“I don’t know I…” Osamu takes a breath in again. “I was gettin’ angry, I didn’t want him to reach and hurt Rin,” he looks at Kita. “I was _angry_. I would have punched him if the blow would have reached the target.”

Shinsuke nods, his eyes are sharp. Osamu doesn’t think he has seen him look so… angry, before. Even when he and Atsumu do all the worst pranks and shenanigans on Aran, or their group of friends. It’s a facet of Kita he has never seen, and he doesn’t really want to see again.

“Listen to me, Osamu,” he eventually says, voice gaining back a bit of softness. “Anger, fear, aggression… they lead to the dark side of the Force. They flow easily…” Shinsuke explains, looking right into Osamu’s eyes. Pointedly, serious. A tad bit worried. For Osamu or for him, the pilot doesn’t know. “If ya start down the dark path once, it will forever dominate yer destiny. It will consume ya...” Kita puts his hand against his shoulder, strong and grounding. “Please, be careful.”

Osamu nods, slowly. “But… I didn’t even know I could do this…”

“Yer anger talked for ya, it took the lead. That’s why ya need t’be careful.”

Kita doesn’t speak again after this, probably to let Osamu get around what just happened. 

“Did I hurt him? By doin’ this?” he asks, mentioning the pilot he… Force-freezed.

Shinsuke shakes his head. “Ya didn’t, it doesn’t hurt. Ya just freezed him in his tracks.”

“‘kay.”

“Did ya tell Rin?” Shinsuke asks, after a minute.

“Mhm,” Osamu agrees, taking a new sip of his tea. “Las’ night.”

A small smile blooms on Kita’s face. “Be honest with him,” he advises Osamu, who looks back at him, lost. “Ya might be surprised, despite yer initial fear.” he properly smiles at Osamu and stands up, patting his back gently, silently ushering him to also get up. “Let’s go back, we have a battle t’win.”

Osamu smiles as well, feeling lighter than he did ten minutes ago. There’s a lingering anxiousness inside of him, but when he gets back to Rintarou’s side after sparing a look at the pilot, in a silent apology, and when Rintarou smiles at him, soft and fond, and immediately tangles their hands together, Osamu feels appeased. 

“Everything alright?” Suna whispers.

The pilot nods, looking at Rintarou with the same fondness he hopes he manages to convey. “I… I’ll need to talk to ya, later.” he says, Kita’s advice fresh in his mind.

“I know,” Rintarou smiles. He kisses Osamu’s cheek. “Thank you.”

When everyone has their attention on her again, General Organa speaks.

“We’re going to fight back, prepare the ships and the rescue shuttles. We’re also leaving D’Qar.” she orders. 

“Rin?” Osamu questions.

Rintarou is walking towards him and the _Millennium_ _Falcon_ , his double B unit droid rolling closely behind him. Suna has a small backpack slumped over one of his shoulders and he’s wearing a simple outfit, with a leather jacket that strangely looks like one of Osamu’s. 

“I don’t have a _X-Wing_ anymore,” Rintarou reminds him. He smiles gently. “Need a co-pilot?”

Osamu can only grin in answer. Rintarou steps closer, kisses him quickly on the lips and declares that “it wasn’t a question anyway” as he hops into the cockpit of the _Falcon_ , Osamu’s laugh trailing behind him. 

He still needs to talk to Suna about this… Force sensitivity thing, about what happened during the meeting earlier. But when? When is the right time to talk about all of this when your base is getting shot and you need to retaliate as quickly as possible before suffering from too much loss.

“‘Samu,” Rintarou calls him. Osamu looks up at him from where he is standing, slumped against the doorframe of the cockpit. The other is looking at him gently, knowingly. “We’ll talk about all of that later, alright? We have things to do first.”

It makes Osamu snap out of it. He takes a breath and jumps into the pilot seat, making the reactors roar as he fumbles with buttons and levers. 

“Yer right,” Osamu agrees. “We have nasty guys to fight against and a fleet to protect.”

Rintarou chuckles and turns around in his seat. “BB-11, buckle your seat belt, he’s the worst pilot out there.”

“I’m a very good pilot, thank ya very much.”

The droid only beeps, a sound of excitation at the upcoming flight mixed with a slight fear about Osamu’s actual skills.

“Yer droid is judgin’ me!”

“He’s not.” Rintarou assures him, winking at his droid before settling back properly as they take off.

Several other spaceships are already in combat position when Osamu and Rintarou leave D’Qar’s orbit. But, before them… There’s a _huge_ Star Destroyer.

“Is it a ship…” Osamu trails off, unable to take his eyes away. He can feel the pressure snaking under his skin up to his bones, frozen. “Or a moving planet…”

“I don’t know.” Suna whispers, next to him. BB-11 lets out a loud beep. 

The communication channel scratches with statics, Osamu turns on his communication earpiece. Rintarou is doing the same next to him.

“Well, well, Osamu,” Aran’s teasing voice reaches their ears. “Are ya flippin’ or what?” the older pilot’s laugh. “It’s just a small spaceship.”

“Are ya sure we’re seein’ the same thing?”

“C’mon, ease up, kiddo,” Aran says, gentler. “It’s goin’ t’be alright.”

“I’m not a kid,” Osamu starts to complain. “Atsumu is the kid, not me.”

“Exactly, yer a kid.”

“Aran, on your left.” Rintarou comments.

Osamu, along with Rintarou observes as Aran’s _X-Wing_ realizes a loop to dodge the shots from the small fleet of _TIE Fighters_ coming their way and immediately retaliates, followed by Kita’s and Komori’s own _X-Wing_ s.

“Okay, kids, my bad,” Aran’s voice says again, after getting rid of the enemy's ship that was following him. 

“Did you get distracted?” Motoya teases. “There’s more coming, on the left.”

“I did not! Don’t talk to me with yer green stripes, I bet we can see ya at the other end of the galaxy!”

“Don’t come at my baby like that!” Motoya complains.

“We should focus.” Shinsuke chastises them, gently. “Komori, behind ya.”

“I think it’s your time to shine, babe.” Rintarou eventually comments, looking at Osamu with a small smirk. 

Osamu blushes a little when he hears Motoya and Aran loudly cooing and wolf whistling into the channel. He doesn’t answer Komori's “Rin, tell me he’s blushing, please tell me he’s blushing” and Osamu really wants to cut the channel off. 

“Don’t do silly things with my girl.” Osamu simply tells Rintarou when he gets up from the pilot’s seat to give his place to the other.

“Never.” Rintarou cheekily retorts.

Needing to appease the sudden wave of affection he’s feeling for this man, Osamu grabs Suna’s head between his two palms and sweetly and forcefully kisses his cheek before bottling out to the ventral quad laser cannon, sliding down the small ladder leading down the seat underneath in speed record. 

“Osamu?” Komori calls him. “Care to help a bit out there?”

Osamu makes the cannon turn to get a view of Motoya’s ship, the pilot is followed by two _TIE Fighters_ and seems to have a hard time getting rid of them.

“Oh, I don’t know Motoya, can I?” he trails off, getting one of the enemy’s spaceship on his dial and shooting. The blast touched its aim. “Can ya take care of the other on yer own?” he asks as he spots another fleet coming out of the Star Destroyer. 

Motoya realizes a pretty cool backwards loop as he shoots the _TIE Fighter_ at the same time.

“Got it, thanks!”

Osamu changes the channel to his and Rintarou’s. “Did ya see the new fleet incomin’?”

“I did. Two coming towards us, right now.”

Osamu turns the cannon to the other side and doesn’t have a particular hard time shooting the two spaceships down. Rintarou comments with a “nice kill, babe” and Osamu can only huff, a smile taking place on his lips. 

“General Organa says the _Tantive IV_ is ready to leave D’Qar,” Kita’s voice comes on the channel a few seconds later. “We need to assure the safety of the consular vessel and the lifeboats.” he explains.

“Alright,” Motoya comments. “What do we do about the huge Star Destroyer behind?” he asks, helping another pilot to get rid of one of the First Order’s pilots that was following them.

“We need to enter lightspeed before they can get a chance to destroy our fleet.” Aran says.

“So we just flee?” Osamu asks.

“For now.”

“If their Star Destroyer hurts us, it’s over.” Rintarou speaks, after a second. “When will they be ready to enter lightspeed?”

“Gold captain out!” 

“We’ve already lost gold and green, we need to hurry!”

The communication is a mess of screams and shouts and statics. Osamu witnesses the _X-Wing_ of the pilot he Force-freezed earlier getting touched and exploding a few meters away. He gulps, then, takes a breath.

_Come on, you’ve done this dozens of times._

“We’re ready, entering lightspeed!” the pilot of the _Tantive IV_ says.

An echo of “entering lightspeed” is heard in the communication channel. Osamu takes the cannon’s mic off and starts to make his way back up to the cockpit. Rintarou has a hand on the hyperdrive lever.

“Ready?” he asks Osamu when he sits down next to him.

“Ready.” Osamu confirms, and Suna pushes the lever up.

They’re navigating through a galaxy vortex, it’s probably the safest place they can be in right now. The only thing breaking the silence is the sound of the universe crossed at lightspeed around them. Osamu slumps against the back of his seat, running his calloused hands through his hair and down his face, Rintarou is scratching at his chin next to him. Eventually, Osamu turns his seat to face the pilot - co-pilot in this case.

“I don’t think while bein’ in a lightspeed vortex is the best place to have this… talk but who knows when we’ll be able to.”

Rintarou lets out a chuckle at the statement and also turns his seat to face Osamu. Their knees are brushing and Osamu can’t help but reach for Suna’s fingers. He furrows his eyebrows, searching how to actually start the conversation. Rintarou is tenderly running his thumb over Osamu’s knuckles.

“I told ya I had a feelin’ somethin’ happened t’ya, you remember that?” Rintarou nods. “There was this… sort of voice, it was whisperin’ to me that ya were in danger. And I wasn’t even here with ya, I was literally in the middle of the desert,” he chuckles, Suna huffs. “I… talked with Kita ‘bout that.”

Rintarou nods, continuing brushing Osamu’s fingers. “What did he tell you?”

“He talked ‘bout midi-chlorians?” Osamu cringes, hoping he got the name right. “That the Force speaks through them and that I might be… sensitive?” he asks more than he states. “That’s why the intuition I had about you was true.”

“Don’t you just love me so much you knew I needed my knight in shining armor?” Rintarou teases, gently, a fox grin stretching his lips. Osamu chuckles but his cheeks are tainted red. Almost like BB-11’s paint. “Does it scare you?” Suna asks, more gently, searching for Osamu’s eyes.

“What scares me is what happened earlier,” Osamu confesses. “I couldn’t hear anythin’, I could only see him and what he was ‘bout to do and I just… _needed_ to stop him. My ears were ringin’ and buzzin’ and I only came back ‘cause of ya and Kita.”

 _Consider it a gift and a blessing_ , Kita has said. But, he also said _anger, fear, aggression, they lead to the dark side. They flow easily. Be careful._

“Did that happen because you were angry?” Osamu nods. “It’s normal to be angry, ‘Samu. You didn’t hurt him, and that’s what matters.”

“But what if next time I hurt someone?” 

Rintarou smiles softly, cupping his face in hands. “Then you have to counter the darker feelings with calmer ones. Change your anger to calmness, and so on,” he explains. “Clear your mind, let go of your consciousness and listen to the Force.”

Osamu nods, but a frown replaces the smile that was forming on his face. “You seem… strangely familiar with this.”

“I understand what you feel, because I felt the same,” Rintarou simply smiles. “I never looked too much into it, though. I just learnt to implement what I just told you. Finding a balance.”

Osamu can only watch him in awe. He shakes his head, the frown disappearing to let place to the smile that previously wanted to bloom on his face. He lets out a small laugh. “Kriff, I love ya.”

“Oh, do you?” Rintarou teases, pulling Osamu’s face closer to his to kiss him on the lips. “Do you feel better?” Osamu nods and Suna kisses him again. Then, grins cheekily at the pilot. “Watch this.” he only says.

Osamu can only watch, then, as Rintarou extends a hand forward, and, suddenly yet gently, smoothly, one of Osamu’s remaining galactic candy, that was resting in one of the compartments of the cockpit, levitates to Rintarou’s hand. Osamu’s eyes widen.

“How?” he asks.

Rintarou shrugs. “Just let go and let it flood through you. I’m eating this, by the way.” he adds, popping the candy into his mouth.

“It was the last one, ya could share.”

Suna grins cheekily again. “Come get some, then.”

Osamu can only comply and dive on Rintarou’s lips.

They leave hyperspace and lightspeed a few minutes later, and are met with the worst possible scenario. Behind them, on their feet, the First Order’s Star Destroyer.

“Is this some sick joke?” Rintarou mutters, next to him.

“How did they manage to follow us in hyperspace?” Osamu asks.

“Do you think…” Motoya starts. “But how?”

“What is it?” Rintarou pushes.

“What if they have a hyperspace tracker?” Komori finishes his earlier thought. “I heard it was something people were doing now.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” Osamu says. “And I know several people who wish they had one.” he adds, mumbling. 

“What are we going to do… If they can follow us in hyperspace we have nowhere to hide,” Aran points out. “And we really can’t settle on Ajan Kloss now.”

“How far are we from Ajan Kloss?” Osamu asks Rintarou, who immediately pushes buttons on the control board. 

“We’re not far from the Cademimu sector,” he says. “One last jump into hyperspace and we’ll be at Ajan Kloss,” Rintarou looks back at the Star Destroyer shadowing their small fleet, the cannons are being taken out, ready to aim on their ships. “But the moment we use hyperdrive, so do they.” 

The first shot comes from the First Order, taking out two of their _X-Wings_. 

Komori flies above them in a hurry, shooting down three _TIE Fighters_ in a row.

“What do we do?!” he breathes heavily through the intercom. “Damn they got one of my back shields.” he mutters. 

“Mori, go back to the _Tantive_ ,” Suna advises. Osamu can feel his worry, and he would be lying if he says he’s not worried himself. You can do it with a missing back shield, he and Atsumu almost do it all the time considering the basically permanent state of wreck the _Falcon_ is in… but not against a full fleet of the First Order. 

“I can’t leave y’all against… _that_!”

“Rintarou is right, Komori,” Shinsuke cuts in. “It’ll be less dangerous for you to go back to the cargo ship.”

“But—“

“If your shields are fixed and we still need a hand, then you can come back in all the hero’s glory.” Rintarou adds, a smile in his words.

Motoya sighs, resignated. “I hate you, Sunarin, I hate you.” Osamu sees his _X-Wing_ turning around to fly towards their cargo ship. “Good luck guys.” he says, sincerely. 

“What do we do now?” Osamu asks, ready to go back to the ventral cannon, because it’s the only alternative he can think of right now. “Do we try to damage their destroyer or is it a waste of time.”

“We need the lifeboats and the cargo ships to at least reach Ajan Kloss without their fleet following them,” says Kita, a calm voice coming out of the communication channel, soothing like the wind in the fields on Naboo. “Every battle ship needs to be ready to both attack and defend.”

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Rintarou whispers next to him at the same time Aran calls for all the battle teams to get into formation. “I really don’t.”

Osamu can only agree, he’s feeling the same. An intuition again. Lingering under his skin, inside his bones, coating him like the snow coated the ground on Kijimi. He turns to BB-11, the droid beeps at him.

“Wan’ to help me with the cannons?” he asks.

The droid beeps excitedly and immediately rolls away, ready to take control of the armements Osamu couldn’t control himself.

“You know what they say about not underestimating a droid, right?” Rintarou says, light heartedly, teasing. 

“I prefer his wrath not bein’ directed to me, then.”

Once again, Osamu slides down the ladder leading to the ventral quad laser cannon and settles in the seat, making the cannon twist to life one more time.

“Ready BB-11?” 

The droid beeps cheerfully. _Have fun, then,_ Osamu thinks.

“Damn cannons,” a pilot yells through the intercom. “I’m touched!”

“Should we aim their surface cannons?” Aran asks.

“Easy peasy,” Rintarou grins, piloting the _Falcon_ as he could to the surface of the Star Destroyer.

“Rin,” Osamu warns. “No freaky maneuver with my ship.”

“Did you just compare me to Atsumu?” says Suna, faking hurt and disgust.

“Can we not talk about Atsumu?” Osamu groans, shooting on the first surface cannon. “The turd is planets away, I’ve never felt — damn fuckin’ _TIE Fighters_ do they build them directly inside or what — more at peace than since I left him on Tatooine.”

“Ya left Atsumu on Tatooine?!” Aran roars laughing. Osamu’s not sure it’s the best moment to be laughing, but if it’s at Atsumu’s expense, then he guesses it’s always the best moment. 

“Long story,” he mumbles. “But yeah, I was gettin’ tired of him.”

“I want to hear ‘bout that!”

 _Maybe when we don’t have a full fleet sticking to our ass_ , Osamu internally grumbles.

He’s shaken in his seat when the _Falcon_ is being shot from front and back.

“What the fuck!”

“Rintarou, Osamu, leave it they’re too numerous.” says Kita.

“Damn it.” Suna curses, easily dodging the shots and maneuvering around the Star Destroyer.

Osamu, just like Rintarou, and all the others, can hear the various screams and shouts coming from their comrades. The lost communications, the touched and blown up spaceships. It’s a catastrophe. It’s a slow, meticulous death knell. They cornered them by tracing their ships through hyperspace and are now enjoying their time taking them down one by one. 

“It’s a death warrant,” Osamu says, to himself at first, but the communication channels are open. Everyone heard. He voiced what they are all thinking. What hope is there when you meet a dead end. When you can’t flee anywhere because evil and death will follow you even at the other end of the galaxy. Ships are exploding all around him, enemy and friends combined. It’s a war, a battlefield. 

They lost. Where’s their hope of getting out of this mess. Osamu’s gut feeling is as prominent as ever and he can feel the shivers running down his spine. Is it how you feel when you’re meeting your inevitable downfall? His thoughts drift to Atsumu, still on Tatooine. Osamu wonders how his twin is doing, is he even still here? Did he leave on his own? Did he stay with Kiyoomi? If so, what are they doing? Can his brother feel the inner turmoil tormenting him? Can he feel Osamu’s conflicted situation and state of mind?

“Osamu.”

Steady, calm, wise, Kita’s voice breaks Osamu’s last barriers, bringing him back to the present, making him focus again. The sounds of demise, blaster shots and explosion all come back at once, it’s almost deafening. 

“Osamu,” Kita says again. “You, Rintarou and all the remainin’ pilots, go back to the _Tantive_.” he gently orders.

“We can’t flee,” Osamu retorts, tired.

“I know,” he can feel the smile in Shinsuke’s voice. “Aran and I are goin’ to cover ya.”

The bad intuition rises up. It tings, urging Osamu’s instinct.

“What are ya goin’ t’do?” he shakily asks. 

“Go back to the cargo ship.” Kita’s words are definitive.

Osamu breathes heavily and hurries out of the quad laser’s pod and to the _Falcon_ ’s main hallway and straight to the cockpit. Rintarou is here, hands tightly clasped on the controls. He has heard what Kita said too. Just like Osamu, he knows what he and Aran are going to do. 

“I still want to hear the story ‘bout Tatooine, kid.” Ojiro says, serious yet Osamu can feel the sincerity and the lack of fear in his words. He, too, has taken his decision.

When they look in front of them, both Osamu and Rintarou sees two _X-Wing_ s facing the First Order’s Star Destroyer. The two spaceships almost look ridiculous in front of this monster. What are they even planning on doing?

Suddenly, it all comes logically to Osamu.

“Yer goin’ to hyperdrive, right on the Destroyer.” he mutters.

“Yer intuition is right,” Shinsuke agrees. “We are.”

“I hope it’ll be enough,” Aran muses. “It should leave you enough time to reach Ajan Kloss without them being able to follow you through hyperspace. Go back to the cargo ship, now.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Rintarou speaks for the first time since Osamu came back up. He grips the back of Osamu’s shirt.

“Go back to the ship.”

Osamu grits his teeth, his eyes feel warm, stinging because of the tears pooling at the corner. There must be another way. There must be —

“Osamu,” Shinsuke calls him. “You know there isn’t.”

The pilot slumps back onto his seat, gripping his hair. He can feel his inside burning. Anger rising, aggression, he wants to kick into something. To take down the First Order’s spaceship by himself just like they have taken down almost all of their fleet.

Rintarou’s words come back to him just like his hand unclenches from where it’s gripping on his shirt to rub it up and down his back instead. 

_Counter the darker feelings with calmer ones._

But how? How is he supposed to do this when his friends are ready to sacrifice themselves to allow them a small window of escape. Osamu looks at Rintarou. The other is in the same state as him, maybe less expressive about it, eyes unreadable, but Osamu can _feel_ it. He feels it. But when he focuses on Shinsuke and Aran, Osamu can only feel determination, purpose, peace.

Osamu doesn’t look when the two smaller spaceships clash into the Destroyer when entering hyperdrive, busying himself with flying the _Falcon_ closer to the _Tantive IV_ and the lifeboats that managed to escape the incessant firing of the First Order. He, neither does Rintarou, doesn’t look when the galaxy sky flashes in luminous, starry blue, like a bomb exploding, to instead focus onto following the other ships into hyperspace, launching lightspeed.

Only when the blue vortex surrounds them does he allow himself to take his head into his head and focus on breathing. Rintarou comes closer, resting his head against his shoulder. Osamu can feel his hand - that has never left his back one second since earlier - shaking against him. He removes one of his arm from his face and gratefully welcomes Suna’s warmth and body against him. He buries his face against the other’s hair at the same time Rintarou’s hand grabs the back of his neck, squeezing and grounding. They don’t really speak, there’s nothing to say. It’s a reality they need to face and integrate on their own.

What’s left of the Resistance is almost saddening, depressing. How many are there of them now? A dozen? Twenty or-so? How many of them did they lose during a single battle? Osamu realizes that's the reality of a war. That’s what a war does.

Komori walks up to them when he and Rintarou get out of the _Millennium Falcon_ , his usual cheery face is gloomy. If Osamu and Suna were turning their back to their friend’s sacrifice, Motoya was in the front row, hoping he could help them in one way or another but stuck inside the cargo ship because of an out of order back shield on his _X-Wing_. He stops next to them and turns back to look at the few survivors.

“How do we build a rebellion from this?” he asks. 

“Can you even,” says Rintarou, slowly. 

Osamu bites his lips. “What if…” he feels Rintarou’s hand sliding into his but doesn’t tear his eyes away from their survivors group. “What if there are other people, out there, leadin’ the same battles as us. What if we’re not alone.”

Rintarou has a smile quirking up the corner of his lips when Osamu looks back at him. It’s fond and sly at the same time. Osamu is ready to follow him anywhere.

“What d’ya have in mind?” he can’t prevent but smile back as he asks.

Suna’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I think the only way to find out is to check by ourselves.”

Motoya looks at them curiously, but a mirroring smile is already breaking on his face when Osamu lets out a chuckle.

“I guess it is.” Osamu nods.

“What about Atsumu?” Komori asks.

Osamu doesn’t answer immediately. Reaches out. Then, serenely smiles.

“I think Atsumu can wait a bit,” he says. “ He isn’t done on his journey yet.”

But soon. Soon, Osamu thinks, a vision of his brother dressed in white linen tunic and standing on a sand dune, as the twin suns of Tatooine are setting in the horizon, flashing through his mind. He knows it’s not his imagination but reality. He feels it, he can see it.

Rintarou brings him closer by the waist, and does the same to Komori by wrapping his free arm over the pilot’s shoulders. There is too little of them, for now. But Osamu hopes, allows himself to hope. 

Tatooine stands ever so proud and empty in front of them. Red, flesh-colored, smudges of brown. It could be blinding if it was the first time Osamu saw it.

“It’s been more than a year,” he comments. “But I feel like it’s yesterday we crashed there with ‘Tsumu.”

Rintarou laughs next to him. “We can still wait another year if you want.” 

It makes Osamu laugh as well, pushing some hair that has fallen on his face away by puffing his cheeks. Rintarou runs a hand through his fringe. 

“Your hair has gotten longer, I need to cut it again,” he notices, pushing the longer strands backward to reveal Osamu’s forehead. “It grows back so fast.” he mumbles.

“It doesn’t,” Osamu retorts, entering Tatooine’s atmosphere. It’s night. The three moons are high in the starry dark blue sky. “We just didn’t have time to really settle, may I remind ya. I didn’t really have time to cut it.”

“I did.” Suna proudly says, pointing to his own hair.

Osamu rolls his eyes but his smile is fond. “Of course ya did.”

Rintarou leans to kiss him on the lips and hands him a worn out elastic band. It’ll do for now. Osamu lets Rintarou take control of the _Falcon_ meanwhile he ties his hair in a small and disorganized bun. He grabs the radiophone, a carbon copy of the one he gave Atsumu more than a year ago. He can’t help but stare at it, only for a few seconds, before opening the communication channel.

“‘Tsumu,” he says. “Do ya copy?” No response. Rintarou glances at him. Osamu tries again. “‘Tsumu, do ya copy?” Silence again. Osamu is about to reach out for a third time when the radiophone scratches with statics, then…

“Took ya long enough, ‘Samu!” comes Atsumu’s cheerful voice. Too cheerful, even. But Osamu can’t help the smile pulling at his lips, unaware Atsumu is smiling as brightly as the flowers on Alderaan on the other side of the communication device. “Did ya cross the galaxy back and forth or what? I knew ya wanted me to get stuck ‘here.” Atsumu adds, because of course, he has to be a rude piece of shit. 

“Technically, he did cross the galaxy.” Rintarou comments, leaning closer to Osamu as he pilots the _Falcon_ calmy above Tatooine’s desert. 

“Sunarin!” his twin exclaims. “Glad to know yer still one of our own. What did ya and my lil’ brother do during yer free time? Ya didn’t go on holiday without me, right?”

Osamu rolls his eyes. Maybe he should leave him here. Rintarou has it covered, though.

“If getting a near death experience, taking down the First Order’s fleets here and there all across the galaxy and not hearing or seeing you for the last year and several months is considered as holidays, then yes we did,” he recites. “I didn’t miss you, by the way.” Suna can’t help but add.

Osamu snickers hearing Atsumu’s answer. 

“Every day is a near death experience Rin, I thought ya knew that by now. Also, now, you’re just bein’ mean,” his twin complains. “If ya can’t be nice then don’t talk at all, Sunarin.”

Rintarou proudly smiles but doesn’t answer, he’s proud of himself. Osamu strokes the back of his head affectionately when his boyfriend retorts with: “Since when am I nice?”

Osamu decides to step in. “Alright, ya two are done now?”

“Jealous, ‘Samu?” he can hear the grin in Atsumu’s voice. He rolls his eyes.

“Just watch above ya, dumbass.” Osamu simply says when he sees they’re nearing Kiyoomi’s house. He cuts the canal off.

When they go out of the _Falcon’s_ hatch, Osamu stops in front of Atsumu. They don’t jump into each other’s arms. Maybe they would have, years ago. Maybe they will. But, after they’re done gauging each other from head to toe. Rintarou is behind Osamu, still standing on the ramp, looking at the curly haired man behind Atsumu. 

“Ya changed,” Osamu eventually speaks first, arms crossed on his brown leather jacket. Atsumu’s hair is longer, too, mirroring his own.

“Ya changed too,” Atsumu echoes. He points to Osamu’s outfit. “That’s my jacket.”

“No, it’s mine,” Osamu retorts, rolling his eyes - they’re going to get stuck one day. He eyes his twin from head to toe again. “Ya seem… different.”

“Yer different too.”

He doesn’t know if Atsumu can feel it for him, but he definitely can feel the changes in Atsumu. Stronger, both physically and mentally. Maybe a bit more calm… controlled. There’s a different light in his already sparkly eyes. He’s grown up. 

They both have. They’re not the little smugglers they were before. Now, both seeing further, greater, different. Understanding more of the world surrounding them, of the conflict the galaxy was in. Osamu has been in the front line, seeing with his own eyes. Atsumu has been further away, but has lived it anyway. Osamu has watched their friends die, Atsumu has felt them. 

“Did you find yerself?” Atsumu asks, sparing a glance at Suna behind his twin. 

Osamu nods. He thinks so, yes. “What about ya?” 

He watches as Atsumu looks at Kiyoomi behind him. He sees their eyes lock. “Yeah.”

“We need more hands,” Rintarou speaks up for the first time since they landed the _Falcon_. “We lost a lot of comrades and friends. The First Order is gaining grounds, but there’s still hope.”

“And as long as there’s still hope, we can still fight.” Osamu adds.

He has moved to stand near Rintarou again, both ready to go back into the ship. Osamu sees Atsumu smirking when his eyes land on their intertwined hands. Osamu simply shoots him a deadpan look and raises his eyebrows when he glances at Kiyoomi. 

“Are ya comin’ or not?” Osamu asks.

He is not asking Atsumu if he’s coming back so they can go back to their former smuggler activities. Osamu is asking him if he’s coming back to fight, if he’s coming to take part in a battle that has been going on for too long. But, Osamu is also giving him a choice to back down, to take a step back and stay here. He knows Atsumu knows that, as well.

Atsumu turns back and looks at Kiyoomi. Osamu doesn’t listen to what they’re saying, it’s something private he shouldn’t pry on, also a part of Atsumu’s journey. And, unlike his twin, he has some respect about privacy. Instead, his gaze settles on Rintarou, who smiles at him, also choosing to not pry the scene in front of them. Osamu leans forward and Rintarou meets him in the middle.

It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s home. Serenity washes over Osamu. Calmer feelings countering the darker ones. Balance.

When he eventually tears himself apart from Suna after exchanging a series of kisses and he looks back at his brother, he and Kiyoomi are also pulling away from what seemed to be some galaxy blowing kiss. Osamu stops himself from prying.

“So… are ya comin’ or not?” he asks again, instead.

“So I can prove ya I’m still the best pilot? Of course!” Atsumu can’t help but provoke. Osamu wants to roll his eyes again but chooses to go back inside the ship rather than falling into his twin’s game. He shares a last look with Rintarou, kisses his cheek again and disappears into the _Falcon_ , leaving the other here. 

_I’m coming in a minute_ , Rintarou’s eyes and aura have said.

Atsumu comes a bit later than Osamu thought but when he does, he’s flipping something in his hand. Osamu recognizes the familiar shine of a lightsaber he has seen Kiyoomi wearing when he was still on Tatooine with him and Atsumu.

“Kriff,” he whistles when Atsumu settles in the pilot seat - of course. “Yer a Jedi or somethin’ now?” he raises an eyebrow.

Atsumu giggles. “Meh.” he only says. And it’s the only answer Osamu will get. But it’s alright, he knows. Just like Atsumu knows about him. 

“Aran would be proud of ya,” Osamu says, breaking the slight tension that has settled.

Atsumu smiles, softly, losing his eyes on the peeking suns. “And Kita of ya.”

Osamu smiles too. Rintarou and Kiyoomi enter the cockpit a second later, each settling on the seats behind each of them respectively. Osamu feels Rintarou’s hand playing with his hair while he fiddles with the different controls on the board.

And, if he focuses on the horizon, under the rising twin suns of the desertic and forgotten planet that is Tatooine as Atsumu excitedly begins lifting off like he has piloted the _Falcon_ all his life, Osamu can hear Kita’s voice whispering.

 _It’s going to be alright_.

And maybe, maybe it will be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! \o/ 
> 
> I might post the "pilot fic" that inspired this series... Maybe, one day. Just say if you want it as well lol
> 
> Comments and kudos are my serotonin boost! spare some?
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/bokutowantsyou)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/bokutowantsyou)  
> 


End file.
